


Obsidian

by gutterandthestars



Series: Twelvetide 2020/2021 [7]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: BAMF Nile Freeman, Found Family, Heists, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova is a Little Shit, Nile Freeman-centric, older brothers are the worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutterandthestars/pseuds/gutterandthestars
Summary: Written for the Twelvetide Drabbles Challenge 2020/2021, for the prompt 'obsidian' for 30th December 2020.***Heist time! Nile is going to help repatriate some antiquities, but first she's got to get out of these zip-cuffs and find a weapon.***
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Twelvetide 2020/2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095605
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71
Collections: Twelvetide Drabbles 2020





	Obsidian

Nile is learning a lesson the others have long lamented: that when your hands and feet are bound tightly enough, immortality is little help in the short term. Nile may theoretically have time to wait for these plastic zip ties to degrade but that isn’t actually any consolation. 

She wriggles in frustration on the marble floor of the private museum belonging to some rich asshole who can apparently afford to hire guards sneaky enough to catch Nile out. She’s no idea how long she’s been unconscious. Her shuffling only serves to bring her up against one of the panelled display cases, jostling the glass cabinets on top. They rattle alarmingly.

She stops to listen. No one approaches. The guards who surprised her and either knocked her out or killed her are apparently long gone. 

The room is lit only by moonlight filtered through the glass roof. Nile is still trying to find a protruding nail, a splinter, anything to saw away at the plastic bonds, when from her corner on the floor, she sees an open exhibit, a rack of replica spears displaying authentic bladed tips glowing in the pale light. With nothing to lose, she rolls over and over until she lies below the rack, then reaches up with her bound feet to kick at the ones she can reach. 

It’s not subtle, and she ends up with at least three wooden spears clattering down on top of her, but in the ensuing mess she works her fingers an obsidian spearhead. She’s mostly succeeded in cutting her fingers to ribbons when two sets soft footsteps approach. 

Fuck.

She freezes. It was likely too much to ask that no-one heard that. She holds her breath until the shadowy figures resolve into familiar silhouettes. 

“Oh Nile,” says Nicky, all heart. 

Joe drops to his knees next to her hip. “Did they hurt you, Nile?” he asks, checking her over and working a finger under the ties to check the bond.

“Some asshole guard knocked me on the head!” she hisses, “but I’m fine. Get these _off_ me.”

Nicky makes an efficient gesture, and Joe stands and slinks off to keep watch at the fancy wooden double doors.

Remaining with Nile, Nicky leans over and severs both sets of ties with a foldaway knife, before he sheaths the blade and slips it back into one of his many zippered pockets. Nile massages her wrists and bends over to knead the circulation back into her feet before taking his proffered hand and staggering upright.

“I’d lend you a knife, but you seem attached to that … artefact,” says Nicky, softly, smiling in the dim light. Nile glances down to the spear she’s picked up. Her hands are already healed. She tilts the spearhead back and forth in the moonlight and shrugs.

“I mean, in the long run I’ve probably as much right to it as this dickhead has to keep it in his museum, right? I may not have been around in…” here, Nile squints at the white card next to the display. “Kenya, in… Wait, 25,000 years ago? Fuck me, this is older than _Andy_ … But hell, someone I’m related to might have been.”

Nicky grins. “Are we going to have to train you to use it?”

“The pointy end goes in the bad guys, I’ll work it out,” Nile says, and attempts a jaunty twirl of the staff. It doesn’t go as well as she’d hoped.

“Watching _Black Panther_ doesn’t count as training,” teases Nicky, _sotto voce_ , crossing the room to the door. Nile follows, with the spear.

“Hell yeah. I could be one of the Dora Milaje,” she says. 

“ _Guns_ ,” quotes Joe, glancing over at them as they draw level with his position at the door. “ _So primitive_.”

“If you’re here to surf down a cobbled street on the ripped off door of a car,” says Nicky, conversationally, “I have to tell you, Andy has done it before.” He raises his weapon and checks the hallway beyond the door before taking the lead, letting Joe watch their back.

“Of course she has,” whispers Nile, as they pad down the corridor.

“It’s true. Monaco, 1944. Her actions saved several key members of _La Résistance_ ,” says Nicky, utterly deadpan. “The _Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile_ awarded her an honorary prize for initiative, but she is banned from ever participating in the _Grand Prix_.”

Behind them, Joe snorts.

“You’re shitting me, right?” breathes Nile.

“Well, yes. But I almost had you,” says Nicky, and ooooh, she’s going to extinguish that glint from his eye just as soon as they wrap this up and get out of here. They’re going to find the guards if Andy hasn’t already, liberate the stolen artefacts they’re here to retrieve, return them to Tunisia’s Bardo National Museum – Joe had been pissed on principal – and then Nile’s going to take this spear and whack Nicolò of Genoa over the head with it.

“I get why Joe killed you when he met you,” she mutters. 

“I’ll cover you, General Okoye,” says Nicky, with a grin and a wink, as they approach an intersection. Nile rolls her eyes, ducks around the corner and follows as Joe switches over and takes point. 

This is going to be her life. Her family. _Forever._

She’s gotta admit, it kinda warms her heart.


End file.
